Sunday, March 6, 2011

Misty Memory




MISTY MEMORY

And that is how I remember them, the people from my past;
I expected crisp, bright images that would last and last and last.
There's Grandpa. I really adored him, but except for a photograph
I truly remember just curly hair, a round face and a belly-laugh.
There's Jo, a great friend of my youth, I expected to have recall,
But I just remember her on a bus..... that's absolutely all.
My children as babies? Surely I'd remember each smile and tear!
But no! They're just a vague chubbiness from a very distant year.
How we rely on photographs! Without them we'd be lost,
They'd be like flowers of summertime killed by a winter frost.
In the days before technology, in the days before the 'click',
And even before the first artists learned the portrait trick,
How the bereaved must have wrestled with this absence of recall!
They'd be looking for a memory and finding nothing at all.
*

Success!


SATURDAY CENTUS
http://thecaterpillaruprising.blogspot.com/2011/03/last-deal-saturday-centus-44.html
'We had to start with the phrase in blue'

SUCCESS!
Everything depended upon this single card.
It should have been so easy and yet now it seemed so hard.
For twelve long years on Valentine's Day she'd sent a card to him,
But no response was forthcoming; the future was looking grim.
She'd signed herself 'Anonymous' throughout the twelve long years,
And the result was always sad, with her in floods of tears.
But today she signed herself  'Louise' and added her address.
And here he was coming up the path! Oh joy! Oh happiness!
*
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TOO RUDDY SWEET!

Some look at offerings such as this
And think the plate resembles bliss!
They salivate with rounded eyes
And a look of greed they can't disguise!
Gateaux fill them with desire,
Setting taste-buds all a-fire.
Cakes with icing make them drool,
They long to taste each molecule!
'Gimme Sugar!' is their cry.
'If I don't get it I shall die!
Let the syrup stain my fingers,
So that the residue just lingers!
Let me lick my lips awhile,
Savouring my sugary smile!'
*
I find such attitudes extreme!
I am repelled by clotted cream!
I stand by, not understanding
The dreadful sweetness they're demanding.
Although I might appear most rude,
I'd reject the pictured food.
Strawberries I like quite well,
But only when au naturelle!
You can keep  'sweetmeats' such as these.
All I want to eat is.............CHEESE!
*

In the Shade



SHADOW SHOT SUNDAY

And did I prance in those wild, wild waves?
And did I have a glorious tan?
And did I wear a bikini
Hoping to attract a man?
Did I throw a beach-ball
And drink pink lemonade?
When did Time say 'Rest yourself.
Find a seat in the shade'?
*
----------------------------------------------------

 THE GREEN GLOVES

They passed so quickly, those lovely days
Between babyhood and childhood.
When communication consisted of
A smile,
A roguish look,
A laugh,
A cuddle.
When a mower was a 'mowoh'
And a whipper-snipper
Was a circular motion of the hands!
When triumph was expressed by raising
The Green Gloves.
And a comical thumbs-up!
The obsession with garden-tools passed.
But, with it, passed
Those lovely days.
*

Yellow Brick Road



YELLOW BRICK ROAD

It wont lead you Over the Rainbow,
Or even to Munchkin Land,
But just to the local Swimming Pool,
Blue sea and golden sand.
But it's a magic pathway
For all who care to climb
This Yellow Brick Road in Newcastle
When summer's at its prime.
*
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SMOG 1950


In my recollection
It was much worse than this!
I don't recall its coming.
One moment the air was clear;
The next we were enveloped
In a sticky yellow blanket!
Black. Yellow. And sticky.
Why yellow?
They said it was sulphur,
It certainly smelt like it!
It certainly tasted like it!
Clean Air was a long way off.
I have several clear memories
Of that unusual event;
The Great Smog of 1950.
I remember going to a dance
At the Kensington Town Hall.
Males and females sat
At opposite sides of the ballroom.
The 'ladies' waited to be 'asked.'
Only, on this occasion,
(And we were inside a building, remember!)
There was fog drifting between us.
I can smell it now,
I can taste it now.
And I can see it clouding the electric lights!
I can also remember trying to find my way home.
I couldn't even find the kerb!
I had to feel with my toes
For the edge of the pavement!
And great black bodies kept looming up
Right in front of me!
'I couldn't see my hand before my face'!
Not just a glib saying,
But a reality!
I recall hearing about the sheep.
There was an Agricultural Show
In progress.
Thousands of sheep died!
Finally, I remember the aftermath.
How the smell and taste lingered for weeks.
How all ones clothes were
Tinged with a yellowish grey.
How the 'fog' hung around in ones nose and ears
'For ever'.
It was a curse.
Yet it was a blessing.
After that, London became
Clean!
*

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PS
We enjoyed a very pleasant social event yesterday. Our friend Gwenda's daughter invited us to the launch of her first novel, 'Beyond Fear'.



It was very well attended and lots of our friends were there.



Malcolm managed to get himself in the picture of the author and her husband!
*

Saturday, March 5, 2011

The Secret


WRITER'S ISLAND
'secret'

AND

POETRY TOW TRUCK
'books'

THE SECRET

I'm attempting to discover
The secret of a successful cover.
The main ingredient, it seems to me,
Is to portray the Secrecy.
At least in the case of a famous book,
Which hardly needs that extra 'hook'. 
Here I offer just a sample.
The one above is one example.
Here we focus on the key;
Always a symbol of Secrecy.

Here the expression on the face,
Reveals the joy of a secret place.


Here we feel the girl is pining
For a place where the sun is always shining.

Here there's emphasis on colour
But the world outsude is not much duller.


There's an air of magic about this scene.
And secret trees that are ever green.


Here the bird takes pride of place.
See the joy on the visitor's face!


This cover is boistrous and everyday;
Just little children at their play.


While here the girl's not animated;
The secrecy is understated.


Sombre hues add a ghostly touch
But the garden isn't featured much.

And here is the one that I like best,
Head and shoulders above the rest.
No sign of a girl or a secret place
No sign of rapture on a face.
No keys, no other-worldly doors;
No mystery to give us pause.
But, ally that picture with that title
And this one captures something vital.
It doesn't give the game away.
Instead, it simply seems to say
'All is not as it may seem;
Enter the world of a secret dream'.
Choose your own, but it seems to me
This one captures Secrecy.
*

---------------------------------------------------

A THOUSAND BLOSSOMS

A thousand blossoms fell today.
They lay there on the ground,
Still full-blown in a spring-like way
Though blemishes could be found.
Maybe the slightest tinge of brown,
Maybe a bruise or tear,
Maybe we saw them fluttering down
Looking neither rich nor rare.
There was nothing left for them to do
Except curl up and die.
*
But wait! Their beauty shines anew!
Admire, as you pass by!
*

The Watchers


Press Photo

WEEKEND IN BLACK AND WHITE
http://blackandwhiteweekend.blogspot.com/

THE WATCHERS

A sense of threat. A sense of doom.
The clouds a menace, too.
A rocky giant hovers close
And the sea is grey, not blue.
And, worst of all, two demon dogs
Keep watch on the giant's head!
Is it any wonder we scurry home
Feeling a sense of dread?
*
Take heart! It's an Art Exhibition.
No need for you to flee!
It's Sydney's yearly display of works,
'Sculpture by the Sea'.
*

-----------------------------------------------------------



THE LETTER

The letter sat before him unopened and unknown,
Pristine, propped up against a mug.
Toying with his slice of toast, luckily alone,
He felt the letter looked a little smug.
It had arrived the day before; he'd eyed it with concern.
The address was typed; it didn't tell a thing.
Was the split for ever? Or could he soon return?
He felt the envelope. Ah! That was good! No ring!
The boarding-house repelled him, with its awful clientel;
He didn't think that he could take much more.
Would she have him back again? It was so hard to tell.
He dreaded what the future had in store.
His children wouldn't miss him! The dog just wouldn't care!
If she wouldn't have him back where could he go?
It was her fault as well as his! So! Life just isn't fair!
She hadn't got the right to tell him 'No'.
But if she told him 'Yes' that would be a great relief!
Life could go on as though he had never left!
His sojourn in the boarding-house might just prove to be brief!
He wouldn't have to feel so damned bereft!
He'd open it! The slice of toast lay cooling on the plate.
It had to be, it had to be, it had to be from her!
With shaking hands he tore the flap! He had to learn his fate!
Then he read the lawyer's formal words..........
'Dear Sir'.

*

Friday, March 4, 2011

Ageing Gracefully


THEME THURSDAY
chose the illustration.

AGEING GRACEFULLY

Few things age as gracefully as books;
Though worn they still retain appealing looks.
Though their spines become more tattered,
And they're sometimes coffee-splattered
Or grease-stained by enthusiastic cooks.
*
I speak of books with character, of course;
Such as 'Fairy Tales Translated from the Norse',
Or 'Traveling in Persia',
'How to Overcome Inertia',
Or 'How To Send Your Messages by Morse.'
*
I don't include the modern paper-back,
Which may be written by a passing hack,
But books of ancient leather
Lined up on shelves together,
Alongside some historic Almanac.
*
I sometimes wish that I were such a book
And I could show that aged-but-lovely look;
That my wrinkles could prove charming,
And not quite so alarming!
But I'm the girl the book-look quite forsook!
*

-------------------------------------------------------


I'M BY THE FROZEN PEAS!

How did we do our shopping before the mobile phone?
(Yes, 'you' call it something different, that I know.)
But, how did we do our shopping without a dialling-tone,
In those dark, dark ages not so long ago?
I pass them in the aisles with 'something' glued on to their ears,
A look of strain upon their youthful features,
And I hear them snarling ' Make your mind up! Lemonade or beers?'
And my heart goes out to these poor anguished creatures.

'They haven't got the small size!'

'No! It's quite another brand!'

'Well, how am I to know your Mother hates it!'

'They've got tomato-flavour!'

'Hell's Teeth! Can't you understand?'

'Who cares how highly Uncle Freddy rates it!'

'The round one or the square one?'

' Well, you bought that sort last week!'

'Check in the kitchen cupboard, on the shelf!'

'Well, strawberry's my favourite'.

'Do you only want one leek?'

'To hell with that! You do the job yourself!'
*
In the days before technology we sort of worked it out.
When we shopped, there wasn't one thing that we missed.
Life was simpler, faster, neater, and more restful, without doubt,
In the days when Mother had a SHOPPING LIST!
*